


spend your nights with me

by bloopee



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Slow Burn, i'll add more characters in future chapters as well, it's almost a self fulfilling prophecy, their relationship only seems to progress when it's nighttime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27966644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloopee/pseuds/bloopee
Summary: an unwinding story about two friends and how they spend their nights and mornings together with a five hours difference sandwiched in-between them.and loneliness was never an issue to dream before george came along, anyway. what's with the constant need for attention?The cold of winter is an experience unique to George in their little trio, with both Sapnap and Dream living in the warmer parts of the states. Dream thinks it's an unpleasant one, and he's expressed this to George. George disagreed with him, then."I like the cold, though," he said. "You dress up warm, get a hot drink and it's so relaxing. I prefer it over feeling like I need to peel my skin off for survival."(Dream still thinks he was lying. Nobody actually likes the cold.)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 162





	1. there are as many reasons to be annoyed as there are people in this call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo! the first chapter has next to no shipping involved, it's kind of an introductory chapter for the reader to familiarize themselves with my writing style, so it's not very plot heavy. i'm planning on including more romance in future chapters!

Dream’s finger stops above the left side of his mouse before joining the call once he sees Technoblade’s name on the list, along with George's and Sapnap’s. They were probably playing in the SMP then. Dream wonders if it was okay to join even though he’s not on the server and has no plans on joining right now.

Sometimes George and Sapnap like to stay to talk in one of the SMP Discord’s voice calls when they’re just too lazy to move to a private call, even though they wouldn’t be playing anymore. Dream joins them on those days, 'cause he knows they’re not doing anything of importance, then. 

Dream shakes his head. Of course, they want him there. Why wouldn’t they? And not like Technoblade has it it in his heart to genuinely dislike someone as nice as Dream. 

Plus, George would never turn down a chat with Dream.

Dream's eyes linger on George's name in the list of people in call.

He wonders what his friend is up to, how he's doing after a full day of not talking to Dream. He wonders how the weather is in England now that winter is nearing. 

The cold of winter is an experience unique to George in their little trio, with both Sapnap and Dream living in the warmer parts of the states. Dream thinks it's an unpleasant one, and he's expressed this to George. George disagreed with him, then. 

_"I like the cold, though,"_ he said. _"You dress up warm, get a hot drink and it's so relaxing. I prefer it over feeling like I need to peel my skin off for survival."_

(Dream still thinks he was lying. Nobody actually likes the cold.)

_"So you admit it! You don't like the cold, you just prefer it over the alternative!"_

And then George rolled his eyes at his camera as if Dream was another pesky bug splat dead on his clear windshield of life. _"It's the same thing, isn't it?"_

And no. No, it was not the same thing. Dream had won that argument and George's stream agreed with him. It was a win for Dream.

Dream shakes his head as if to shake all of these random thoughts out his head. Who cares what the weather's like? And he can ask George how he's feeling once he joins the damn call.

Dream clicks the button to be brought into the call.

As soon as he connects, Dream’s greeted with a collective and terrified: " _AHHHHH!!_ " The sound is loud enough to make Dream flinch away from his PC.

“What are you doing Sapnap?! Just kill him!” George’s desperate voice sounds through Dream's headphones. It sounds intense, whatever his friends are doing.

“Why don’t _you_ kill him, George?!” Sapnap shouts back. “This isn’t a one on one!”

“How many enderpearls do you have?” Technoblade’s bored voice sounds, and Dream smiles. It doesn’t surprise him that Techno’s not that excited to be fighting his friends. “Doesn’t even matter.”

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Sapnap huffs, voice frustrated. “We could’ve taken him if you didn’t run away from me, George,” he blames his friend.

“You know _both_ of us would’ve died if I had stayed!” George defends his cowardliness. And it’s a good reason, really. Dream knows he’s right as much as Sapnap or George would like to deny it.

Technoblade seems to agree with Dream’s thoughts. “He’s right, he’s just cutting the losses,” he answers. “Come get your things. Actually, no, I’m taking that. And this too.”

“Hi.” Dream finally greets them when there’s a moment of silence. None of them have greeted him yet, meaning none of them even know he was in the call. “What are you guys doing?” He asks, voice almost curious.

“Oh, hello,” Technoblade greets him first, audibly surprised to hear Dream. They must have missed the little sound notification from Discord telling them another user has joined because of their own screams.

Maybe Dream shouldn't have joined, after all.

“When did you join the call?” Sapnap asks, “I didn’t even hear you.”

“Dream's such a stalker…” George says. Dream physically forces himself not to roll his eyes at him.

“A little while ago. I heard you guys get owned by Techno,” he answers instead of getting verbally violent with his beautiful friend.

“And you didn’t even come help?!” Sapnap shouts. “Some friend you are.” 

“Are you guys streaming?” Dream asks instead of answering why he wasn’t there for his friends. He was busy with other stuff and things.

Like stretching his arms and cracking his fingers. He woke up just a little while ago. The white cup with a little blue fire on it still sits steaming on his desk. He reaches for it.

He got it just a couple weeks ago along with the rest of Sapnap's merch. It's become one of Dream's favourites as soon as he took it out of the box.

He's sure George could also appreciate the vibrant blue color of the flame. He'll have to remind himself later to ask George if he got Sapnap's merch yet.

George and Sapnap both answer no, while Technoblade decides to complain. “No, but I totally should be. George and Sapnap? This is free views! I’m _never_ streaming when something interesting happens. It's a curse.”

“It doesn’t sound very interesting. Just sounds like you killed Sapnap, a fifth grader could do that.” Dream waves his hand at Sapnap's name on Discord to prove his point to him, even though can’t even see him.

“Hey! What the hell… It was an ambush, of course he killed me…” Sapnap reasons. And it does sound like a good reason.

Or at least it would if at least one person in the call believed Sapnap could take Technoblade on even if it was a direct attack.

“Ambush? You were in my house.”

“You weren’t supposed to be there,” Sapnap answers, frustrated.

“You see, Sapnap, when you click Tab, you can see the people who are online on the server, usually,” Techno explains and Dream can’t help but laugh a little at how Technoblade enjoys rubbing salt on the wound. “My name is right there on the bottom of the list. You couldn’t have waited 'til I logged off?”

“You never log off though.” Another fair point from Sapnap.

“I can’t log off, 'cause once I do suddenly everyone’s brave enough to pick a fight with me.”

“That’s why we did it while you were online. We tried a different strategy,” George tries to explain after a minute of letting Sapnap talk himself into another stupid corner.

“It didn’t work very well,” Techno points out.

“Dream, back us up here!” Dream’s forcibly pulled away from his comfortable observer position when his name is called by Sapnap. 

“Huh?” 

Suddenly, the window seems very interesting to him. The green of the trees rustles so pretty when there's a slight breeze outside. 

Maybe Dream should go outside to enjoy it for once instead of rotting in his gaming chair.

The Minecraft home screen is still bright on his main monitor.

“Tell him!” George commands.

Dream laughs. “What do you want me to say? I’m not even there.” And it’s true. He doesn’t even want to be there, to be honest. Something about picking a fight with Techno for no reason just doesn’t sound that pleasing to him.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s actual PVP with Technoblade, and Dream has to put in real effort into it and that kind of stresses him out a little.

It's nothing like PVP with George who just keeps getting folded by Dream every single time they fight with one another in one of their testing servers.

“Then why did you come at all if you didn’t plan on helping us?” Sapnap questions.

“I didn’t even know what you guys were doing. I just came in to chat,” Dream answers lightly. “What, I can’t come in here to chat with my friends?"

“Should I leave? I’m leaving," Technoblade speaks, feeling out of place in a call with Dream Team and no one else. It feels too personal for him, like he's intruding on something private. "Sapnap, your stuff is on the ground, hurry up before it despawns.” 

And with that, there’s a sound from Discord signaling everyone that a person has left their call. Dream watches Techno’s name disappear from the list of people. 

“Yeah, yeah," Sapnap tells no one, voice so annoyed. He feels like he has to share how unsatisfied he is with the group.

“And… he’s gone,” George lets his friends know as if they Discord didn’t already tell them.

“Well that was… interesting,” Dream talks, “what were you guys even trying to do?” 

“George found Techno’s base, so we went in to look for something to yoink.” Sapnap explains, which doesn’t answer the lingering _why though_ at the back of Dream’s mind.

“How’d you even find it?” Dream asks, 'cause as far as he knows that base was very secret. No one on the server besides Techno himself knew where it was.

“I just found it on accident. I was going far out to look for a mooshroom biome and stumbled upon it.” George shrugs in front of his turned off camera, sounding so disinterested. 

Dream doesn't see George shrug, sadly, but he knows he does.

He also knows George would sound much more annoyed if he stayed to fight and die like Sapnap did.

Dream likes George's voice the most, then. When his smooth voice has slight undertones of anger and his mind is fast, but words slow, because he is so careful not to cuss out the root of his problem. 

Dream admires the ability a lot.

And it's not that Dream doesn't think before he speaks-- he does, and he still thinks about it late after what's said, but he wonders what it would be like not to lash out at every small inconvenience thrown his way.

He remembers today's morning, when he rolled out of bed and put on sweatpants to go to the kitchen to get his morning coffee ready, but realized his pants were inside out after he had already pulled them on.

If Patches understood English, the cat would be traumatized. 

“What would you even need a mooshroom biome for?” Dream still asks, because who _ever_ needs a mooshroom biome?

“I wanted to have the only mooshroom on the server. They’re cute."

Dream has to agree.

“They are cute,” he says, going to click at his Minecraft server list.

And it's only then that it hits him. Dream had just woken up. And George was here.

Dream glances in the bottom right corner of his monitor to check the time.

“Wait, George. Isn’t it it like 7AM for you?” Dream asks, already having memorized the difference between their time zones.

He still takes his phone to check the world clock. His eyes fix to the top of the list where he's placed George's time zone.

The clock reads 7:32AM and the glow of those numbers on his screen almost feels offensive to Dream. He frowns.

George should be asleep.

“Um... yeah,” George answers, a little hesitant. He knows Dream hates it when his friends don't take care of themselves. "Well, it's actually half past, so it's not that early," he adds, as if half an hour changed anything.

“What do you mean _not that early_? Did you sleep tonight?” Dream asks, because those thirty-two minutes, like George suspected, didn't matter at all.

“Yeah, I woke up a couple hours ago.”

“What the hell? Go back to bed, George.” And the amount of disbelief in Dream's voice is almost comical.

“I’m not tired,” George argues, though his low voice and slightly slurred words say a different story.

A pang of guilt pricks Dream for not realizing it sooner. The tiredness is so clear in George's voice now that he knows it's there.

“How are you not tired? Go to sleep.” Dream demands, though his tone of voice is not as angry as Dream would want it to be.

It's obviously not George's fault. Nobody past the age of 13 wakes up at 5 in the morning and decides they want to play Minecraft. 

“No chance, dude. I’ve been trying to put him to bed for the last couple hours,” Sapnap says, reminding Dream that it's not only him and George that are in the call. 

It's a nice reminder, though, because now Dream has someone else to blame for why George isn't all cozied up in bed and sleeping.

“You’ve been here with him since the beginning? You should've told him no and forced him to bed."

“He messaged me on Discord as soon as he woke up, asking me to join him, Dream. I'm not his mom to tell him no."

And as much as Dream wants to argue with his best friend for not putting George to bed, he really can't, 'cause he knows Sapnap is right. George isn't a child, and everyone has bad nights.

It's not even that big of a deal, Dream can't figure out why he cares so much. It's not like George is a late sleeper anyway, he'd get two, maybe three more hours of sleep at most if he went to sleep now.

So Dream decides it's time to stop with his mothering act, and the best way to do that is to joke.

“He messaged you and not me? That’s mean, George,” he says, voice lighter than it was a minute ago, even though now he found another minor detail to be annoyed about. 

He can't accept the fact that George messaged Sapnap instead of him, especially now that they haven't spoken in a full _day_. Dream is _always_ George's first choice.

“You’ve been going to sleep late, Dream. I didn’t want to wake you up.” And his annoyance is once again gone. He can't stay annoyed when George knows a little thing like that about him.

And not like Dream has complained to George about it. George must just have noticed it himself; noticed how Dream has been going to bed later and later each night. 

Part of the problem is George, if Dream's being honest. He doesn't want to go to bed when he knows George is still going to continue his day without him in it. He doesn't like the idea of not spending as much time as possible with George.

And it's so unlike Dream to be genuinely jealous, but he also doesn't like the idea of George spending his day with someone else. Someone physically closer to himself, in England, like, say, Wilbur. Someone who he can meet up with and see whenever he wants. Dream's envious of that, of how simple it was.

This feeling of envy was something that was reserved to George and no one else.

But that's a secret, Dream would never admit that to anyone. And it's not like he can help it. He finds George's presence the most comforting, even when the two just sit in silence or listen to music without speaking for hours on end.

Another part of the problem (and George isn't even an actual problem, so this is really the only _problem_ problem), a much bigger one, is the feeling of loneliness that crawls up Dream's spine the second he's alone.

He partly blames Sapnap and George for that, along with the entirety of the Dream SMP and even his fans. Moving into his new house hasn't helped it either.

There are always people online from all these different time zones ready to chase Dream's loneliness away. There is always someone to talk to, always someone to entertain and be entertained by.

He's grown used to it, to all of this attention and want. It's the stem of Dream's desperation for attention. He's not used to being all alone anymore.

Turning off his computer and locking his phone, Do Not Disturb mode on, and laying down in his bed is really the only time he's completely alone. The feeling is not something he enjoys, if he's being honest.

It's just too much for him. Too quiet, too cold even with the Florida heat heavy in the surrounding air, and the crickets outside that never shut up keeping him company through a distance. All the twisting and turning in the world couldn't save him.

His phone is his remedy, then. The side effect is Dream laying in his bed wide awake 'til 4AM. 

Dream shakes all these thoughts out of his head. “ _Suuuure._ Just tell me you hate me.”

“Wha--" George's words of disbelief get caught in the back of his throat by the sudden sense of childish betrayal. He didn't wake up at five in the morning to be bullied. "Fine, I’ll go back to bed.”

A sense of pride swells in Dream's chest once it hits him that he's convinced George to get his rest. “Wow! You hate me so much you can’t even talk to me?” he continues, sounding as offended as he possibly can.

“That’s not what I said at all.”

“I see how you feel, George." Dream nods. "Alright. Don’t talk to me then.”

“Do you not want me to go to bed?” George asks, annoyed once again. 

Dream can't help but be thankful for how easy it is with George.

“No no no, go." Dream shakes his head, sad to lose George for a few hours but happy knowing that he is getting his hard-earned beauty sleep. _He looks so ugly I bet,_ he thinks. "I don’t want you to be sleep deprived. Just message me first instead of Sapnap this time," he adds for good measure after seeing Sapnap's name still in the call.

"Hey! Let the man message whoever he wants, you big baby," Sapnap tells him, angry, and Dream laughs at the reaction.

"Bye, guys," George says with a well-timed little yawn.

"See ya."

"Sleep well, George." And with Dream's final goodbye, George's name disappears. The small bubble by his profile picture turns gray. 

Dream finds himself slipping into the emptiness George's absence has left. He tries to slow the process by picking up his phone again and shooting a quick message to George _i hope you actually went to bed and not just said that_

Sapnap's here to help his friend out. "He listened to you and not me? That’s not fair,” he huffs a second time in the past half hour. 

Sapnap's efforts become insignificant when George's response comes a few seconds later _I'm in bed dream. Stop nagging at me_

Dream smiles. The goodnight was already said, and the _talk to you later_ implied, so he locks his phone and puts it down.

“Why would he listen to you? He obviously loves me more," Dream answers him with a roll of his eyes, obviously picking a fight as if they were siblings arguing about who their parents loved more. "I just know how to talk to him," is what comes out of his mouth next. Dream isn't quick enough to stop it.

“Yeah yeah-- wait, what’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Sapnap asks, his tone a mix of questioning, offended and curious.

The sentence seemed like a fact to Dream. He doesn't really have a way to explain why it did, but he'd argue it was true. Dream just felt as though if George had to pick between Sapnap and Dream, he'd pick Dream. George had always favored him more, no matter how much he'd get annoyed by all his cheesy flirting and just general childishness. 

There are a couple beats of silence, one quick blink that feels awkward to Dream. He didn't like the change in the tone of the conversation, so he brings it back to what it was before the offbeat statement by saying, “exactly what I said. Now come fight me for your honor.”

He joins one of their testing servers. Sapnap will see which one he's in.

"You're so on."


	2. some bets are meant to be lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everyone's a winner, even the losers

After a long day of coding their new mod, while being distracted by George on the phone with the most random things and coding alone, all Dream wants is to unwind. To relax, to play a calming game. Maybe do some level grinding on the SMP. 

He's tired of seeing numbers and sequences of letters that don't mean anything all day; he'd much rather be whacking fake spiders and hearing the satisfying dings as his in-game levels go up and his armor with mending on it fixes up.

It's when Clay slips out of his evening shower, hair wet and breath minty, that he sees a message notification from Discord on his phone, sent by Sapnap only minutes ago: _come to the server and join the group call_

It peaks his interest, Dream can't lie. Whatever's going on seems very important. Or at least much more important than finishing the code up for the mod he was working on.

He enters his completely dark room, only illuminated by the brightness of his monitors, and is fishing out a shirt from his closet drawer when he hears another notification from Discord reach him, demanding his attention.

_now!! go go gO_

Dream rolls his eyes at his friend's impatience, but sits down in his gaming chair and clicks to start up Minecraft before pulling the white shirt around his neck down his lean torso. 

Instead of shooting a quick message back to Sapnap, he joins the group call with him and George in it.

"Hi," he greets kindly. "What's up?"

"Come to the server, I want you to see what I've done," Sapnap says instead of greeting back. 

George is silent.

"Did you build something?" Dream asks, scanning his server list. He finds the one testing server with two people in it.

"No, but I want you to be here before I say anything," Sapnap informs him. Dream's not surprised to learn there aren't any new built structures, since none of them really like building all that much. 

He's curious about what it is though, that Sapnap can't just say it over voice call and needs Dream physically there.

Or at least as physically as it's possible with the distance between them all.

His computer whirs silently as the server is loaded up on the screen. 

"I'm in the plains at spawn, where are you?" He asks once it's done loading and he's stood on green grass blocks.

"We're coming," Sapnap tells him and Dream swears he can hear the happiness in Sapnap's voice. 

George is still quiet, and Dream points it out. "Why's George quiet? Is he still here?" He checks Discord on his second monitor. George is still in the call, and his mic is apparently on.

"He's getting something to drink, he'll be back in a sec," Sapnap tells him as his character teleports on top of Dream with a transparent message in the bottom left side of the game screen, in the chat box.

Dream hears typing again and George's character appears where Sapnap stood just a second ago with another line of text. Sapnap turns his character's head to look at Dream instead of the ground. 

"And now we wait," he says.

"Wait for what?" George's voice, the same one Dream listened to just hours ago, sounds in the background. Dream hears a door shut. "Oh, Dream's here," he says into the mic this time, his character turning to look at Dream as well.

"What did you want to show me?" Dream asks, 'cause so far he hasn't seen anything out of the ordinary on the server.

"Look," Sapnap instructs. "George, you look ravishing tonight."

There's a loud sigh from George. "Not as ravishing as you..." he says, so unlike himself. His voice is the most disinterested as Dream has ever heard it. 

Dream turns his head in question. "Huh?"

Sapnap groans as if annoyed at Dream for not realizing the situation. "No, listen," he says, voice more commanding now. "George, I want to have sex with you."

"Woah!" Dream shouts into his microphone with a little laugh. "What was _that_ , you weirdo?"

"Listen, Dream!" Sapnap shouts at him, his character hitting Dream and dealing no damage with Dream being in creative mode. Grey particles fly out of him.

So Dream does listen, and after a few seconds of pure silence George's bored tone is heard through Dream's headphones again. "I can't wait."

"Am I... missing something here?" Dream asks, a corner of his mouth lifting up into a confused yet slightly amused half smile. It's not everyday that he hears stuff like that.

"You're an idiot. George is flirting back!" Sapnap points out to a confused Dream. "Isn't that crazy?"

"Well, I wouldn't call any of that flirting, but sure," Dream answers him. "What's going on?"

"Get this," Sapnap says and he sounds closer than he did a moment ago. Is he leaning into his mic? "George lost a bet."

"Okay?"

"And he has to flirt back. That's his punishment," Sapnap finally explains. Dream's mouth forms an O.

_Ohhhh._ Now it kind of makes sense.

Kind of.

"Wait, let me get this straight," Dream starts. "You made a bet with George, and your reward is George flirting back with you."

"Right? He's so weird!" George exclaims. "Out of all the things he could've asked for, he chose _that_."

"It's not only me. He has to flirt back with everyone!" Sapnap tries to defend himself. "It's _funny_."

"No, no, that's not what you said. You did not say _everyone_ ," George shoots back.

"Oh, come on," Sapnap says. Dream notes the use of his tagline, "you don't get to pussy out now," he argues. "I said everyone."

"You so didn't! He's such a liar!" Now it's George's turn to defend himself. His desperation turns up his accent to a maximum.

It's a poor defense though, because Dream's mind has already launched up to the stratosphere, lifted up by all the endless possibilities. 

Dream doesn't care what George has to say anymore. He's on Sapnap's side now.

"Don't act like you wouldn't have taken the bet if I specifically said 'everyone'," Sapnap says, his avatar jumping in circles around George's still one and hitting it from all different angles, dealing no damage to him either.

George stays quiet then, which makes Dream curious on what the bet was about after he's done gathering his mind from said mental stratosphere. 

What could Sapnap have offered that would equal George's dignity?

"For how long?" Dream chooses to ask instead of the other dozen questions floating in his head right now. The _hows_ and _whys_ don't matter anymore. 

"How long what?" Sapnap asks.

"How long is he supposed to be doing this for?" Dream elaborates.

"Not that long. 'Til the next MCC," Sapnap answers, and Dream _knows_ both him and his best friend are sharing the same shit-eating grin right now.

"Oh, George. You've done it now." Dream laughs like a kid. He can't help it, the idea excites him a lot. He has _so_ much to say, George isn't going to hear the end of it. 

Dream decides to test his new-found power. "George, your eyes are so beautiful," he says, voice all fake and dreamy.

"Yeah, and I like your... weird nipple-eye things," George says back, his avatar shifting in front of Dream and trying to hit the green figure.

"Oh, George sucks at flirting," Dream points out and taps at his keyboard to make his character fly up and away in a random direction. "But it'll have to do."

"Anyway, you two have fun. I have to go now," Sapnap says, exiting the server and closing Minecraft. Dream watches the yellow line of text in game, informing him and George that their friend is gone. 

"It's like 9PM for you. Where are you going?" Dream asks him, nosey. "Ooh, I think Sapnap's got a dateee," he teases.

George giggles, thankful for the change of topic and for the redirection of Dream's attention. 

He's incredibly naïve if he truly believes that will be enough to make Dream forget about their previous conversation.

He ooh's along with Dream.

"You guys are idiots," Sapnap tells them with a shake of his head. "Good night."

And with two sets of matching teasing laughter instead of a proper goodbye, he's chased out of the Discord call.

It's silent between Dream and George for a moment, before Dream finds George's character on the ground again and lands in front of him.

"I'm gonna abuse the hell out of this bet, George," he informs his friend. He thinks it's a fair warning, and it fills the silence.

"I'll hate you if you do," George tells him.

"You'd never hate me." Dream rolls his eyes at the video game on his screen.

"I totally would."

" _Nooo_ ," Dream drawls out, voice low and tone teasing and just plain annoying. He makes his character's head shake slowly at George, the action mocking.

" _Yess_ ," George answers with the same fake tone. His character slowly nods his head at Dream. It starts nodding faster when Dream moves his mouse side to side more frantically.

Dream laughs, hits George and sprints straight past him. "You're an idiot, George! You should've just won the bet if you hate the punishment so much," he says as if it was that easy.

"Wha-! Well, I was planning to!" George chases after Dream. "It just... didn't work out."

"Like all your plans, ever," Dream mocks, voice light. Now that he thinks about it, stuff hardly ever works out for George the way he wants it to. It's as if the only thing he can do successfully is code wrong.

(Or fix Dream's broken code, but Dream wouldn't actually say that out loud.)

"What was the bet about, anyway?" He asks, 'cause his curiosity still hasn't been satisfied. His avatar is in a village now. Dream runs through the houses, destroying all the beds along with rummaging through all the chests he can find as if he was speedrunning. "You rarely ever agree to bets." 

And it's true, George doesn't like taking on bets he's not sure he can win. Not unless there's a lot to be won.

It must've been an offer George could not have possibly refused.

"We were practicing for MCC when Sapnap offered a bet. We played Hole in the Wall and I lost," George recalls, but that's not enough for Dream. "Barely."

" _Barely_ ," Dream repeats, voice mocking, and the _barely_ and George's sore loser-ness is almost enough to make Dream forget what he actually wanted to know. Almost. "You're not answering! What would you have gotten if you won?"

George doesn't answer.

"George."

"I would've gotten your Snapchat," and George runs through the words so fast Dream's not sure he heard correctly. He can't be sure.

Dream's character stops moving. George's character stops a little way away. He doesn't want to come closer. The situation is too embarrassing for him to be close to Dream, even in game. 

"What?" Dream says, asking George to repeat himself. The disbelief and clearness in Dream's voice makes George believe he's understood him fine, but still wants George to repeat himself just in case he heard wrong.

"Sapnap would've given me your Snapchat, if I won," George explains.

"What?" Dream asks again, this time the disbelief even clearer in his voice. "George! You could've just asked _me_ for that! We're friends!"

And they are friends, so Dream's not sure why George would go the roundabout way about getting something as little as his Snapchat name. 

It's not strange to him that George doesn't have it already, even after years of knowing each other, though. Dream doesn't use Snapchat, he's never really had a need for it. He wasn't one to be sending pictures to people, George knows; he doesn't even remember the last time he opened the app. It was probably months ago when his sister sent him a video of a cute stray cat. George also knows this, 'cause Dream made sure to show off the picture to him too, and that's another reason why George never bothered asking for it. He knew Dream didn't use it much.

Plus, George already has Dream's phone number and isn't shy about using it, so Snapchat was kind of unnecessary for them.

It must've slipped Dream's mind as something unimportant for these reasons.

George doesn't say anything, so Dream speaks again. "Look, I'm pulling up Snapchat and sending you my username."

He taps around his dark desk to look for his phone. 

It's aggressive with its brightness, so Dream fixes it into the lowest setting before scanning through the pages of apps on his phone until he finds the bright yellow icon with the little white ghost on it. 

"Now it sounds like I'm desperate for your Snapchat or something!" George shouts, embarrassed. 

"No no, you are, it's fine," Dream says, teasing. He tries figuring out where he can find the username he created when he was like 15 on the strange app layout he's not used to. "Babe," he adds. Because he can.

Dream smiles. _Babe's_ a nice nickname, he'll make sure to use it on George more often.

"Just because I have to flirt back doesn't mean I can't complain about it. Stop with the stupid nicknames."

"Why, they're cute," Dream reasons. He finds his lame username then, and re-types it in the chat of their server and taps the Enter key. "There, I typed it out for you so you wouldn't mistype it."

"I don't want your stupid Snapchat, Dream," George says, dismissive, even though he already has his phone in his hand and is opening the same stupid yellow app.

And that's a big fat lie, Dream knows. George wouldn't have agreed to the bet if he didn't genuinely want it.

It's strange to Dream. A little flattering that his favorite person in the world would want more ways to contact him, but still strange.

Dream doesn't say anything, though. Teasing is all fun and good, but he'd be damned if he made George uncomfortable. Dream knows when to stop. He's crossed that boundary and watched other people cross it one too many times to not have it weaved into his mind as if it were a sixth sense.

"Okay, I'll believe you if you add me," he jokes, trying to take some of the pressure off of George. 

A second later there's a red circle at the top of Dream's phone, telling him that someone's trying to add him. 

Dream's grip is sweaty by the time he taps to accept the request. "There we go," he says.

They talk for a another hour, messing around on the server. 

Dream speedruns their testing server while George does everything in his power to annoy the crap out of him. Dream has to fight off groups of creepers large enough to lag even his monster computer, and he _swears_ strongholds shouldn't have that many silverfish in them, but George counters this by saying that it's because the stronghold is the mountains biome, as if Dream couldn't check it himself and see that it was not, in fact, in the mountains biome.

11PM glows bright on Dream's monitor when George yawns for the first time tonight. It's much later for him. It ignites a desperation deep within Dream to keep his friend around for as long as possible, even though he can tell how tired said friend is.

But against his better judgement, or for, Dream still asks, "are you tired?"

Instead of answering the question, George tells him, "I can stay for another hour."

So Dream racks his brain for a way to keep his friend entertained, and his first idea is the Dream SMP. George loves it there.

"Wanna go to the SMP?" He asks. 

George's answer is affirmative, so they exit their testing server and log into the Dream SMP. Dream checks the player list, and Quackity is the only person online. Dream tells George this, and, after seeing that Quackity is in one of the SMP's Discord calls, asks him if he wants to join him.

"Sure," is George's answer, so they abandon their group call for one of the SMP's ones. They join Quackity.

"Hi," Dream greets first, followed by George's more quiet hello.

"Oh, hey guys." Quackity's answers, voice energetic. "I'm streaming, by the way."

"Hello, stream!" Both Dream and George greet, almost in perfect unison. George doesn't sound half dead anymore.

"What are you guys doing?" Quackity asks.

"Oh, you know. Spending quality time together," Dream offers, because he has nothing else to say. He finds George in his house and offers him a poppy. George accepts it by putting it in his off-hand and shifting in Dream's general direction.

_Ruining George's sleep schedule and stalling his leave_ doesn't feel appropriate to say.

"Wanna meet up at Denny's for an even higher quality time?" Quackity asks in his usual chirp.

"On our way," Dream answers for George. They go to the Denny's building on the server. Quackity meets them there.

"Now, tell me," Quackity starts, standing behind the block of cobblestone that's supposed to be a table, "what is on your mind?"

Dream positions himself on the opposite side of the sad table. "I think George is hitting on me," he says. George stands a few blocks away, still holding the flower. There's a small sound coming from his microphone for a second, that couldn't be anything other than a grin.

Quackity nods to his stream, a few sounds of acknowledgement escaping his throat. "And how does that make you feel?" He asks, voice so fakely serious Dream feels like he’s in one of those therapist talk shows on some small TV channel. 

"Pretty good, actually," Dream answers, sounding proud and not the least bit dissatisfied. 

George finally speaks up, "oh yeah? Maybe I should do it more often then," he says. "I like it when I make you feel good," he finishes, and Dream _knows_ he's hearing that purr in George's voice for the first time in his miserable life.

There's a look of surprise on Dream's face, a shiver slowly making its way up his spine and reaching even his fingertips, making him feel a little cold.

It's definitely a new feeling. Sleep deprived George is something else.

There's an _ohoho_ mixed with laughter instead of an actual verbal response from Quackity. Dream's still trying to make peace with George's risqué word choice. He leans back a little in his chair with a small smirk on his face, even though his moves lag and his body quakes. 

He sees no other choice but to double-down when George sounds so flirtatious. It's only fair. "Oh, you do?" He asks, his voice low and words slow. He wants to move his in-game character to look at George's, but his hands are shaking.

Instead of turning his avatar's head, Dream moves his real one instead, to see if the AC is still on full blast. It would make sense in terms of the drop in temperature, but not so much for his suddenly sweaty armpits. 

It's been hot in Florida recently (when wasn't it, though?), he wouldn't be surprised if it was. He might've left it on and forgot about it.

He looks. The AC is off. This is all George.

George speaks with that same voice that makes Dream consider asking Sapnap to call off the bet. "Yeah... Why don't we leave this call so I can make you feel _real_ good?"

Dream's just fast enough to take his headphones off and move away from his mic for it to not catch him choking on his own spit.

"I heard that." George laughs gently, and his voice is so soft and sweet Dream might mistake it for the smell of pastries.

In-between Quackity's loud laughter and screeching, Dream hears the sound of Discord telling him someone's left the call. It doesn't take much thought for him to know who it was. In game, Dream watches George's character walk out of the Denny's and away towards his house.

Dream forces himself to laugh, remembering that there's an audience that's watching. "Bye, stream!" He says, voice cheery, and he leaves the call as well. He follows after George.

When George's character stops, Dream gets a personal Discord call from him. He picks up without a second to breathe.

The deep breath he was apparently holding escapes him when he hears George's tired voice again, this time without any colorful undertones. "I just wanted to get out of there. I'm too tired."

"Jesus, George. That even surprised _me_ ," Dream tells him, making his character sprint beside George's.

"Oh, yeah?" George laughs quietly. "I'm too tired to be embarrassed about it."

"I didn't know you had it in you to talk like that," Dream jokes, though it hardly feels like joking while he's still trying to get his heart to slow down.

"You learn something new everyday, I guess," George offers him, obviously leaving the moment they just experienced in the past. He doesn't sound like he's phased at all.

"Well, _I_ know what kind of compilations I'll be watching tomorrow," Dream teases.

There's a smile evident in George's voice, though his tired laughter is gone when he says, "you're so stupid."

"Stan twitter is gonna sniff this out like wolves," Dream tells him. The fans aren't used to George speaking like that either.

" _Woofs_ ," George repeats after him, making fun of Dream's pronunciation.

"Wol-ves," Dream says the word how George normally would. There's a warm feeling in his chest from the comfortable atmosphere. His shivering body feels like a distant memory now.

"It still sounds weird when you say it," George tells him, the smile back in his voice. "You should work on that while I sleep." And Dream feels the warmth trickle out of him when he realizes George is implying a goodbye. 

"I'll impress you tomorrow," Dream promises, still, as they reach George's hut and George logs off the server. Dream follows suit. 

There's nothing for him on the SMP now.

The pair bid their final good nights and end their call. 

With silence around him, Clay stares at his monitor, the boring wallpaper staring back at him, mocking. _What now?_ he thinks.

He goes to turn some music on to kill the silence, when a notification lights up his phone screen. 

It's from Snapchat. From George. 

Clay hurries to unlock his phone with clammy hands to see what George has sent him, as if it might disappear if he wasn't quick enough.

He latches onto the feeling of his presence being wanted.

There's a red square by George's name. Clay taps it.

The picture is a black screen with the word _Dream?_ on it.

Dream snaps a pic of his desk with the corner of his monitor visible, the blue color from his desktop's wallpaper illuminating whatever's in shot.

_yes?_ He types out, and sends the picture to George.

He stares at the screen, and watches the red arrow by George's name become hollow when George opens the picture.

Moments later, a response comes. It's a picture of the grey bed sheets Dream has seen time and time again behind George in his face cam when he streams. There's text on it: _Was just checking if it really was you. I'm going to sleep now Dream_

Before Dream can type out a response, another picture comes his way. It's only a black screen again, with the words _Also I like your desktop image_

Of course, he would. It's George's favorite color.

Dream takes another picture of his desktop and types out a _goodnight george :)_

Clay still stares at George's name, keeps his eyes fixed on the arrow with its hollow form, but this time he doesn't expect a response.

Something tells him he'll sleep well tonight. Or maybe it's just a feeling he's getting.

He shuts down his computer and moves his suddenly exhausted body towards the bed. It's only half past one A.M when he falls asleep.


	3. drowning in honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dream does whatever he wants because he can and george is very pretty

"What are you doing, Tommy?!" George shouts, shifting on the ledge of a cobblestone tower. 

Dream wishes Geoge's face cam was bigger. He squints at the small box in the corner of his computer screen.

George has been streaming for around 20 minutes now. Dream clicked on the stream as soon as he saw the notification from Twitch pop up with a speeding heart, excited at the prospect of being able to see George again. Laundry was all too easily forgotten. 

They haven't spoken yet today, not besides their usual good morning messages and George's demands for Dream to have a proper breakfast. It was sweet of him to care.

It's surprising, though, that George is streaming. He's expressed that he had no plans to while the bet was still on just yesterday while they were playing on their testing server. _It's too embarrassing_ he said. _You said it yourself, you plan on abusing it. I don't want to stream that_.

So it came as a surprise to Dream when he got the notification. Not an unpleasant surprise, though.

Yesterday, their short conversation on Quackity's stream replays front and center in his mind. His heart speeds up whenever he recalls George's exact words, the way he said them. His little _I heard that_ and his chuckle that was anything but a warning when he realized he actually got Dream for once. He seemed to be enjoying it. 

He keeps trying to imagine how George looked while he said it. Was he smiling? Smirking? Were his tired eyes lidded or did they twinkle with life? Was he slumped over his desk or was he sitting in his chair all snuggled up in a blanket? Dream knows it's cold over there.

But maybe the temperature should stay the only thing he knows. He doesn't think he's ready to actually know what George looked like while talking to Dream like _that_ even if it was a only a joke, only a reason to run away from an energetic friend.

Dream's actually pretty sure he dreamt it tonight anyway, though the memory was all gone by the time he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He's not sure.

And he's not sure he's ready to face the reality of him dreaming of George and having George at the back of his mind the entire day so far either. 

Those thoughts about George have been nothing short of pesky ever since Dream woke up. Dream didn't exactly address them.

He's brought out of his thoughts by Tommy's loud, short laugh. "I didn't think he'd fall and die! There's water down there, how did he land on the one block that _wasn't_ water?" He defends his brutal slaughter of Tubbo.

Tubbo won't be ecstatic to find his screen red when he comes back from the kitchen.

"You pushed him off a tower, of course he was going to fall! That's how gravity works!" George shouts back, hitting Tommy's avatar with his empty hand. Dream frowned childishly when he noticed earlier that George wasn't holding the poppy he gave him yesterday, holding a shield now instead.

"Well, it was a pussy move to die, if you asked me. If I were to fall, I would just say no, thank you."

"Let's test it," George says with sudden determination to his voice and a small smile. He smacks Tommy towards and over the edge. Tommy falls with a scream, but manages to land in water, his inventory clogging up with Tubbo's items.

Dream's regretful to peel his eyes away from George, but he closes the stream on his PC and loads up Minecraft instead.

George's stream is already bright on his phone when Dream joins the server and clicks to join the voice call everyone's in.

"Hi!" He greets.

"Oh, it's the fucking green bitch again," Tommy says, voice annoyed. "Hello, Dream."

"That's not nice, Tommy," Dream tells him, making his avatar move towards the ugly cobblestone tower everyone's at.

"Hi, Dream," George greets him back. Dream watches his lips move and the corners of his mouth lift up ever so slightly as he speaks on Dream's phone positioned against his monitor. The unnoticeable smile is gone as soon as it appears.

His face is even smaller now. Dream hates this.

"Aw, why am I dead?" Tubbo's disappointed voice sounds. 

Tommy laughs awkwardly. "You tripped and fell," he tells him. And after Tubbo's quiet _no, I didn't_ , he adds, "you're _allucinating_."

"Yeah, you're very clumsy," George tells Tubbo, and Tommy agrees with a: _yeah, yeah, take better care of yourself big man._

"And Dream's here!" Tubbo calls out when he hears Dream's chuckle at their jokes.

"Hello, Tubbo!" He says, finally reaching the tower and climbing up the ladders. The end of his climb isn't even visible in his render distance; just how high did they build this thing?

"Hey Dream, are you busy right now?" Tommy asks. After Dream answers no, he continues, "Want to mug some people? Let's mug someone when it's nighttime. You look like someone who likes mugging. All green and shit."

"Sure," Dream laughs, reaching the top and planting his character next to George. George acknowledges him by shifting at him a couple times. 

A line of text appears in the server's chat next to TommyInnit's name _join vc2 if you want to be mugged ahah_. And the line is repeated four more times.

"There, I sound American," he says proudly. 

"Very American," Tubbo agrees easily.

"And it's night already. This is just perfect," Tommy speaks.

"Nighttime is... crime time," George says, so random it makes Dream laugh. George laughs along with him quietly.

Half a minute later Quackity's message appears _hell yea!_ and he joins the voice call not even a moment after.

"Where are you?" He asks.

"Cobblestone tower," Tommy answers. Dream doesn't think that answer will suffice, looking at how many of those Tommy's built. He stopped counting after the first five.

"Which one?" Quackity asks, founding the answer as unhelpful as Dream predicted.

"Not far from Tommy's house. Can't miss it," Dream tells him. Quackity answers with an _okay_ , and they wait.

After making his render distance larger, Dream sees Tommy's and Tubbo's characters stand at the bottom of the tower, so he starts hitting George with a shovel to try and push him off.

George tries jumping around him to dodge the attacks. "What are you doing?!" He screams with panic, trying to hit Dream back but missing every other hit. He feels like he's playing Spleef.

Dream laughs, still punching. "Nobody mugs people on top of a tower, George. We need to go down," he tells him, and his reasoning's decent at least. Nobody ever mugs people on top of a tower.

He's unsuccessful in trying to hit George off, but George jumps down himself. Dream follows, and they both land in water.

Quackity's here with them now, telling everyone how he's ready to be mugged. 

"Hohh.. There's a lot of you here," he draws out after GeorgeNotFound and Dream walk over. "I don't think I'm comfortable with this anymore."

Dream laughs. "But being mugged by one person is fine?"

"It's more personal!" Quackity reasons. "The human contact makes me feel warm inside."

"But now there are more humans to be contacted by," Tubbo points out

Quackity runs out of excuses. "Yeah... No. I'm gonna go." He leaves their call, running away from the group in the same direction he came from.

"That's the fastest I've ever been rejected, I think," George says. Dream doesn't doubt it.

They watch Quackity go. "Well, there goes our victim," Tommy says, sounding angry. He hits at the air where Quackity's avatar just stood. "Any other takers?" He asks, turning his own avatar to look at the group.

Dream and George, both clad in glowing purple armor, equip their netherite swords simultaneously. 

Tommy looks at them. "Guess not," he says, sounding even more pissed off. "Let's go, Tubbo," he instructs his friend, and both of them walk away on the Prime path. 

"Ooh, George!" Dream says, voice all excited as if he's remembered something important. He'd never forget the bet. "I have something for you." He opens his inventory and scans for the present.

"What is it?" George asks, raising a questioning eyebrow. Dream finds the action endearing.

"Here," Dream says, dropping the item on the ground. George walks over the block it's on and picks it up.

"It's a shield," George observes. Dream watches George open his inventory and move his mouse over the item. "I Love You - Dream heart," he reads its name out loud with a confused smile.

Dream laughs. "Equip it!"

And George listens, dragging it to his offhand item box, switching out the black shield with a red cross.

He clicks F5 to see how it looks, and Dream watches. It's a white shield with an awkward looking red heart in the middle of it. George's smile grows wider.

"What's this for?" He asks, shifting a few times, admiring how bad it looks.

"For you!" Dream says, voice playful. "And what do you have to say?"

George's smile doesn't falter, but he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "I love you too, Dream," he says, sounding defeated.

He sounds much more disinterested than he looks, his stupid smile still on full display, and Dream isn't quick enough to stop himself, isn't quick enough to weigh his next words carefully. Or at all.

His soft voice sounds like pink cotton candy and the calming chirp of birds in early spring when he says, "you're so pretty." And it sounds like a secret nobody was supposed to hear.

Dream's eyes widen at the deafening silence. They register George's stunned face, his rounded eyes and slightly parted lips making it seem like he had something to say, but the words lost themselves on their way. 

But that wasn't true. George didn't have anything to say, and neither did Dream. His mind was clear of words he could use to defend himself with. 

He doesn't call other men pretty. He calls his mom pretty, his sisters (sometimes), the occasional flower he saw on his way home from his job when he still had one. He doesn't have a defense for using it on George.

So it comes as no surprise, the relief washing over him like a tsunami and the feeling of sudden terror as if the ground itself disappeared below his feet leaving his body when Tommy reminds them that he's still in the call with a confused and almost offended sounding, " _whot?_ "

He owes Tommy the world and the moon for that.

It's then that a realization hits George, Dream can practically hear a button click in his mind and his body visibly unstiffens. 

"You're prettier," George tells Dream, hitting Dream's in-game character.

Dream swears it electrocutes him, with the way his body jolts as the unthreatening hit lands. 

The bet. It's still on.

He's safe.

Tommy sputters for a moment. "You guys are gross!" He announces.

"I think it's romantic," Tubbo says. Dream can't decide who he agrees with more. 

"Come over here George," Dream says once the tension's completely left his body. "Let's... have sex. I have... penis for you."

"Oh, no it's not." Tubbo quickly changes his mind.

Laughing, Dream watches as George's chat fills up with emojis of embarrassed faces and the word _what_ written with mixes of lowercase and highercase letters.

"Guys, I'm a minor! I'm a minor!" Tommy cries out with a high pitched voice. 

But both of these reactions pale in comparison to George's scrunched up, disapproving and embarrassed face.

"Let's go to a private call," Dream says, leaving the call before getting a reaction from anyone, having faith George will follow him. 

And George does. Seconds later, the two are alone in their private Discord call.

"What did you want?" George asks him, not sure why Dream made them split off from the other two.

"To have sex, I already told you," Dream answers him, serious. He watches as George rolls his pretty brown eyes.

"Seriously, Dream."

"I just wanted to talk, us two," Dream shrugs, watching as lines of _clingywastaken_ replace all the whats.

"Okay... What do you want to do?" And it's a fair question to ask, because both of them have been absentmindedly running through the Dream SMP grounds without a purpose for a full minute now.

"We can... Practice for the MCC?" Dream offers when nothing else comes to mind. Maybe he should hit his team up and invite them to practice with him instead of George. That would be more useful.

He shakes the idea out of his head. That's a stupid idea.

It's a little upsetting that he won't be in a team with George this month either. He'll have to speak to Scott about it next month.

"I bet I can take you in Battle Box," George comments, already on the practice server and trying to decide what game he wants to start with. 

Dream laughs. "I don't think you want to be taking on any new bets for a while, George." 

George smiles knowingly. He hasn't told his stream about his past bet yet. "I guess you're right."

They play some games neither of them need to practice for with Dream continuously trying random pick up lines and making sexual jokes he had wanted to say in the past but didn’t want to make George uncomfortable with them. He makes all the sexual innuendos he could possibly remember of thinking up.

George had to hear it all.

And he couldn’t run way from it. That was the absolute best part. Sapnap would not let him live it down if George backed out.

Not that he was thinking about doing it anyway, he told Dream. _It’d be very lame of me_ , he said. He lost the bet fair and square. And Dream respects that, he very much does.

But respect isn’t enough to stop him from abusing his new power. George’s stubbornness to complete his punishment was actually the most motivating factor to Dream.

And it was beautiful. George was beautiful. The way he would blush out of secondhand embarrassment and cover his face after Dream would say something that was _definitely_ against Terms of Service, the way he would groan and moan out his little _Nooo Dream, how can you say that?_ one after another as if they were tic tacs falling out of his pocket.

Dream couldn’t get enough of it. His eyes would stay glued to his phone, gaze focused on George and all of his reactions. Dream would forget he was in the actual stream and just stand still with George running in circles around him.

After around an hour of complete and utter harassment, George asks him, "is your team doing anything skin-wise for the MCC?"

"We're getting little jackets with our team color, why?" Dream answers him, doing the Minecraft Championship parkour out of pure muscle memory.

"I was just wondering if you were going to cover your weird nipple-eyes," George answers with a shrug.

Dream sighs loudly. The nipple-eyes again. "It's a nipple and it's on my body. Where else do you want me to put it?"

"In my mouth, preferably," George says, and the lack of hesitation makes Dream believe it was planned.

" _WHAT?!_ " He wheezes. " _George!_ " He doesn't even try to make his jump and lets himself fall into the abyss, shoulders shaking out of control.

George laughs along with him. "I don't think I can do better than that," he tells his still laughing friend honestly.

"Did it take you long to come up with that one?" Dream asks with hurting cheeks. It's an understatement to say that he wasn't expecting it. The joke hit him like a truck, he can't stop smiling. 

"...No," George answers him, dishonest. He was thinking of a way to get back at his friend for quite a bit of the torturous stream.

"You're such a liar!" Dream accuses, amusement clear in his voice. "This is how it's done, George. Watch me," he instructs.

And George complies, leaving his character to stand still in front of Dream's. He falls silent.

Dream takes a deep breath. He looks at George's face cam as if he was saying this directly to him. "I've been watching your stream today, George. Didn't miss a second of it." And there's not a single lie in the statement. Dream almost sounds proud. His voice is calm.

It's okay, the punishment was still a thing. Dream can say this.

"O-oh, yeah?" George answers, suddenly very unsure with all of this. His eye unconsciously look at his camera for a brief moment, suddenly aware that his friend is watching. Dream doesn't miss it. 

"Yeah," he assures him, easily. "I've never seen that shirt you're wearing, is it new? And I can tell you've grown out your hair a little." He lets his friend in on all of his observations. "I like it. You look beautiful tonight, George." And there's not a shred of hesitation in his voice. George couldn't find a scrap of doubtfulness if he tried.

It's quiet for a moment. Dream's eyes don't leave George's face. It feels like it's only them two in the entire world until George shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his head turning to the side and finding Dream's Discord username. They stay there as if to pretend that his stream couldn't see his discomfort if he couldn't see them.

A light pink dusts his cheeks. Dream would point it out and make fun of it, normally. But this isn't _normally_. Not anymore. George's reaction is indication enough.

It's as if he's forgotten he should retaliate with something flirty. Dream doesn't push him to.

Against his own wishes he reminds himself that it's a joke. 

It's supposed to be.

His reminder to George that it's supposed to be a joke comes in the form of a lighthearted laugh.

George laughs as well, though not as enthusiastically. Dream knows it’s not genuine.

He knows it’s not because he wasn’t supposed to say that.

"And that's how it's done _babyyy_ ," he says with shaky hands, his normal fun voice back and focus set on his game again. For the first time today, it's the most interesting thing in the universe. 

He hops away from George to the closet jump of the parkour and surprisingly is successful in his landing. He hopes the in-game distance is enough to pull him out of the mindset that George likes hearing Dream compliment him.

"I don't like this bit anymore, Dream," George tells him once he's done collecting his thoughts and his light blush is disappearing. The amusement in his voice that was there just a few minutes ago is gone too. "It lost its charm."

"I thought it was charming," Dream says, voice anything but indirect, "it's fun."

"It wasn't," George disagrees. "It's not."

"I was just being honest." Dream ignores the string of comments about their flirting, still jumping as if he could jump away from the burst of warmth that hit him when he was doing his little flirting shtick. 

He needs more distance. An ocean isn't enough.

"You weren't," George disagrees again, jumping after him.

"You know I don't lie to you, George." And the statement is nothing if not sincere, which isn't exactly good. Dream ignores it while he still can.

"You so do! You're such a liar!" George shouts with a laugh. He finds the bold claim ridiculous. "I could think of, like, a billion times you've lied to me just at the top of my head."

Dream laughs. "You so couldn't." It's a baseless accusation. Even he couldn't think of any situations where he's lied to George.

The realization is instantaneous and it's a scary thought. He lands on a checkpoint and doesn't move. He can't ignore it anymore.

He hasn't lied to George when he called him beautiful. He knows that more than anyone, more than George should know.

George isn't convinced, but he doesn't point it out. He doesn't want to think about their conversation. 

Instead he asks, "what are you wearing, Dream?" Because even though he wants to forget the conversation, the sense of humiliation still lingers like a cloud of heavy smoke. Dream had made him blush red in front of his stream. And not out of secondhand embarrassment. Not this time.

"Huh?" Dream's taken aback by the random question.

"You pointed out my shirt, so I'm curious about what you're wearing," George explains himself and even he cringes when he realizes it was the wrong thing to say. It felt wrong. 

But Dream smiles through the burst of anxiety. He's curious to hear what George will say. He can practically see the grave George is digging himself into.

"Let me show you," he says, enthusiastic. "I'll send you a pic on Snapchat." And he picks up his phone and switches out George's stream for the Snapchat app.

He snaps a quick picture of himself sitting in his chair. Everything between his neck and knees is visible with the help of his bright monitors. His baggy white tee hanging loosely, the dark sweatpants. His arm comfortably resting on his chair's armrest, his hand on the side of his keyboard.

He sends the picture to George without a second thought. He can't afford those now. 

He doesn't want to think more about his actions and implications because he knows he won't like what he'll find. If he were to think about it longer he'd decide it was the wrong thing to do. It was too much, too bold. Too forward.

It was abnormal for him to send such pictures to George. He hasn't done it before and there's no valid reason for doing it now besides the fact that he just wants George to see.

At least this way he can cower behind the fact that he didn't think it through, that he didn't know better.

Dream turns on George's stream on his phone again.

"Oh, you actually sent something," George says, sounding surprised. His eyes are cast down to his phone that isn't in the frame of his camera. He ignores Dream's _I said I would_ and opens the picture.

And he sits there, gaze unmoving, face unchanging. Quiet. 

He stares.

Something gets stuck in Dream's throat, maybe a handful of needles that materialized themselves out of his too many feelings, but he manages to speak through his loud heartbeat. "Don't drool in front of your stream, George."

George was staring. He was speechless. 

Dream made George _stare_. He made him _speechless_.

"I'm not." George snaps out of whatever that was with the help of Dream's encouragement. He squirms when he physically refrains himself from actually wiping his lips as if unsure on what to do. 

There's a lost expression on his face as he continues looking down. Dream would be lying if he said he didn't share the feeling. 

He felt out of place, felt uncomfortable in his new chair. 

He shifted his position to try and help it, moved his headphones to the side a bit to hear the inaudible buzz of his empty house. 

It didn't help.

His unsureness is amplified when the silence is ruined by a sound from his phone when he gets a text message from Sapnap.

_you're pushing it loverboy_

Dream looks at the text, an alarm sounding in his ticking veins like a bomb ready to explode.

The feeling doesn't leave him when he texts back against his better judgment. 

_i'm not_

In the meantime, the look of a lost puppy on George's face while he still holds his phone is replaced with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He moves on from the suffocating awkwardness before Dream. The picture is still on George's phone screen. 

"Oh..." he begins and Dream knows it's going to be good, whatever George has to say. He knows that look on George's face. It's almost enough to chase his anxious feelings away. George looks up at the camera again for a brief moment. "Dream sent something naughty..."

Dream remembers he's allowed to laugh, so he does. "That's a lie!"

George laughs along with him. "I can't believe you sent something like that on stream..." He taps away from the picture.

"I didn't send anything bad!" Dream defends himself, the tension slowly leaving his muscles. He forces himself to relax into his chair.

"If only the stream saw... I should've screenshot it," George groans, voice so fake it could very well be a spill of sticky melted plastic.

George's playfulness ignites something in Dream. This is another chance. Another opportunity to try and push George off of his high horse of indifference.

"You can," Dream says, voice so relaxed the two words are barely strung together. A sudden green GO sign lights up bright in his mind. He tenses up in his chair again like a violin's string, hit with fresh confidence. 

George slipped up by giving him a green light to feel this way.

"Huh?" 

Dream decides he can push it further this time.

"You can screenshot it if you want," he tells George. The self-assuredness in his voice is hard to miss, the cockiness, but George ignores it. It appears neither Dream nor George are going to be addressing anything today.

Dream's reminded it's a funny bit they're doing when George says, "it's great blackmail material."

And then Dream gets a notification from Snapchat, informing him that his picture was replayed, and another when it was screenshot. 

He looks at the two notifications, surprised. He didn't think George would do it. It was really more of a secret hope than a conscious thought.

What now?

They wrap up the stream almost an hour later. Dream misses being able to see George already. 

Though maybe not seeing him is better for the sake of Dream's deteriorating sanity.

He doesn't share what he's found with his friend.

He doesn't share his sudden want to lace their conversations with more not completely friendly undertones, and he doesn't point out George's enabling actions. There's nothing to point out. Not everything has a secret meaning for Dream to uncover.

He doesn't share Sapnap's message either.

He's not sure he should, he's not sure it's necessary. He might be completely wrong. He might be getting lost in this sweet heavy feeling and forgetting which way is up. Which way is out.

He felt like he was drowning in honey when he was watching George react to his teasing while taking the role of player 2 in Dream's game. He can't ignore the possibility the strange feeling wasn't completely one-sided, and he _absolutely_ cannot ignore the fact that George is making him feel like all his past girlfriends made him feel.

He doesn't share the fact that he's happy that George played along with him even when he didn't have to. The bet is a bet, sure, and his punishment is a punishment, but he feels as though George having a picture of him goes far beyond the boundaries of it.

He knows he didn't have to screenshot the image in complete secrecy of the stream. His viewers didn't know what the actual picture was of, so it wasn't _flirting_. It was George's free will to do it.

George squeals into his mic, bringing Dream out of his many thoughts, probably stretching out his back and arms now that he's finally done with work.

Dream breaks the silence first. George's voice must be tired. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" He asks instead of the many other questions he'd like to have answers for.

"Did what?" George asks him back instead of _which part?_

"Streaming today. You said you wouldn't while the bet was still on. You said it was a bad idea." And it was a bad idea, both for Dream and George.

For Dream because he doesn't have enough self control and for George because he's too easy to take advantage of.

"It was a fun stream," George defends. Dream couldn't agree more. It was _extremely_ fun. "And I missed streaming."

"That's bullshit," Dream calls out, "you streamed a few days ago. You’ve taken breaks longer than this," he points out. And before he can think to stop himself he adds, "it’s almost like you wanted to be flustered on stream.”

George doesn't answer immediately, which only makes Dream think he was right to think George was too eager to let Dream do whatever the hell he wanted.

George is quiet for a couple heartbeats. The pause is long enough for Dream to notice, but just short enough for him to be called crazy if he were to point it out.

"Flustered? You mean embarrassed?" George finally answers after what feels like an eternity to Dream, and the string of the four words is enough to completely throw him off. "'Cause that was a lot." George wasn't playing along anymore. The stream was over.

Maybe Sapnap was right. Maybe he _was_ pushing it.

Hit with sudden guilt, he feels the need to apologize for putting George through everything. Even though it was technically all fair game, all within reason, as shaky as that reason was (being only a punishment for a stupid lost bet in its rawest form), Dream's heart wasn't completely in the right place. He'd be lying if he said his motive was to make George embarrassed or to make his stream entertaining.

Just what was Dream's motive?

He remembers George's quiet, non-streaming voice saying he didn't like their bit anymore. Maybe Dream should've stopped, then. Maybe that was a warning he ignored all too easily.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice so apologetic it's reminiscent of a kid apologizing to their parent for breaking a vase. With Dream's complicated feelings attached to it, their uncomplicated friendship felt just as fragile, "I took it too far. I shouldn't have done that."

George is quiet again as if to register Dream's sudden change of heart. The cockiness radiating off of Dream was long gone.

"It's fine," George answers. "It's fair."

But Dream knew it wasn't, and that's exactly what he says. "It wasn't."

George sighs, mind too tired to have a serious conversation right now. He streamed for a few hours and it was late for him. "Would it make you feel better if I accepted your apology?" He asks, even though it's clear in his voice he believes it to be nothing more than a formality. Dream doesn't have anything to apologize for. He never apologizes for being annoying on stream. It's only entertainment.

He's too tired to remember how uncomfortable he felt, how he shifted in his seat. But Dream isn't. He remembers and he's disappointed in himself for not taking the hint to stop.

That was probably the moment when the mental green GO sign should've turned a dangerous red. But it didn't, because Dream was too selfish savoring the idea that George liked it.

George isn't like that, he never liked Dream being so frisky with him on stream. He never did in all of their years of friendship. _Of course_ the feeling wasn't mutual. What was Dream thinking?

"Yes," Dream answers immediately, because he alone knows it wasn't a mere formality, and if Sapnap's previous text told him anything, it's that Sapnap understood as well than an apology was called for.

So George does accept it. "Apology accepted. Don't do it again if you're so sorry." And Dream promises that he won't.

It's then that George tells him he's tired, that he has to go shower and sleep. They say goodbye, Dream ending their conversation on autopilot.

The day weighs heavy on his mind when he's laying in his bed that night. He wants to talk to George again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> officially done with exam season pog


	4. a victim of circumstance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dream and george play an interesting game of tug of war

Dream's day starts earlier today, earlier than he's gotten used to.

His eyes are already trying to focus on the white ceiling when it's barely 9 A.M

It's not that late in the day for George, he might not be crazy busy. And judging by how late he went to bed yesterday, he might have actually gotten up not that long ago anyway.

With the hope of a child hoping to catch Santa Claus on Christmas night and a small smile at the thought of George he doesn't notice, Dream reaches for his phone and already finds a Snapchat notification left by George hours ago proud on his lockscreen.

He opens the app and swipes George's username left to read it.

_Morning!_ it reads. 

An exclamation mark by a good morning text? Did the sun rise from the west today? Since when is George, a guy that Dream has observed to not be a morning person, so happy in the morning?

_don't yell at me it's too early,_ Dream texts back, feeling all funny, smiling down at his phone like an idiot.

He puts it down onto his chest, thinking Twitter and Reddit and whatever else can wait for him today. He stares at the ceiling.

His smile disappears when he thinks about yesterday, about George's stream and about their conversation after it was done. He cringes, remembering what he forced George to endure and groans out a disappointed _why did I do that?_ as if the ceiling could answer his disappointment.

Sapnap wasn't happy with him either. Dream knows he wouldn't be. He knew a line was crossed, a line that should have been left alone and untouched, especially with a very perceptive audience watching. Both of them know, and Dream can guess that George would have been much more upset with Dream if he wasn't exhausted out of his mind by the end of it.

He understands how their fans view their relationship, he knows they won't let either of them live it down. And for Dream, it's not such a problem: he's fine with being called a simp-- it's not the first time, it's the same old song. Everyone knows that's just how he is. What is not fine is the fact that he roped George into it and now _he_ will have the displeasure of dealing with the teasing for being all blushy and flustered for real.

He's not seven anymore-- when will he drill it into his thick skull that sometimes his actions have an effect on people other than himself?

It's an understatement to say that he fears opening Twitter or Tik Tok or any other social media where their fans are especially vocal about their relationship.

There's another familiar sound from his phone. Dream goes to open Snapchat again, already smiling, his heavy thoughts gone just as quick as a dark cloud that's passed.

_Wow I can't be excited to talk to you? I see how it is._

Dream stares at George's little avatar person thingy at the bottom left waiting for his response. 

He was excited to talk to him? George is never excited to talk to him, not unless they haven't spoken in literal weeks because of one reason or another. But in those scenarios George doesn't outright say he's excited; Dream can just tell, judging by his tone of voice and by how everything Dream says elicits a laugh out of him.

Dream loves those conversation. It happens rarely that they don't get to talk for a longer period of time, so rarely because they put in extra effort to prevent it, and maybe that's what makes it so special. It's the best feeling in the world when he can clearly tell George is excited and happy because of his presence after a break.

It feels good to feel missed and wanted like that. And Dream would be lying if he said he didn't share the feeling. Finally hearing George's voice after a period of time where he couldn't felt like rain after a drought.

_no you can't,_ Dream answers because he'd really rather George didn't. He doesn't think his heart can take an excited and happy George when it's already beating out of chest while he's just watching him type.

Dream writes his easily excitable heart off on him not being fully awake yet.

_Fine then_

_Bye,_ and with this his person thingy disappears. Dream doesn't message back. He wants a minute to breathe without George being here to prevent it.

George... 

The same George that had Dream shouting profanities in front of hundreds of thousands of viewers straight out of frustration and annoyance more than once is now making him tear himself apart, trying to figure out why he suddenly felt so excited when he'd get a text from him.

The same George that Dream bullied for being short to no end is now making him imagine what he'd feel like with Dream's arms wrapped around him, his head tucked under his chin.

How his hair would smell like so close to Dream's face.

How his pink flushed cheek would feel against Dream's palm. How his eyes would look down to Dream's lips.

His lips...

Dream blushes at the thought.

The same George that screams and screeches like his imaginary friend just got murdered is now having Dream imagine what his lips taste like.

Dream wants to open the window and scream as well, just how George isn't ashamed to do in front of a microphone. 

Dream doesn't have a crush on George.

He is still confident that it's nothing, still forcibly chuckling in his bed with his arm over his eyes. An innocent and drawn out _grosssss_ slips past his parted lips. He hopes to just completely laugh the idea of him potentially having these weird feelings towards his _friend_ away until he sees George smile back at him in the dark, letting him know that that won't be an option. 

Dream might have a crush on George.

Dream moves his arm and looks out the window. He wonders if George is looking at the same sky as him right now, thinking the same. There might be a possibility, George wasn't fully his normal self yesterday either. 

He frowns. _Of course he's not. Stop being stupid._

The idea disappears as soon as it takes place in Dream's mind. This is ridiculous. It's not a crush.

_This is ridiculous,_ Dream huffs and jumps out of his bed with a wave of anger washing over his body. 

He's not thinking of George like that. Impossible. He's not letting George make him feel like all of his crushes ever have made him feel.

He's just not. He can't.

He continues not thinking of George when he showers and gets shampoo in his eyes, when he steps out his shower and slips and almost _dies_ and he's definitely not thinking of George while his coffee machine is spewing steaming coffee on the table because Dream forgot to put a cup down for it.

Dream watches in horror as his whole life falls apart in front of him.

With a vein ready to burst somewhere, he takes a few paper towels and hurriedly cleans up before the has the pleasure of wiping coffee off of his white kitchen floor. 

He throws the wet paper into the trashcan that is in his full view and only a few steps away. The trashcan would leave him no excuse if he were to miss his throw.

And he misses it. The wet cluster falls with a disappointing wet sound. Dream's sure this is what the last straw sounds like.

" _Fuck off!_ " He yells at the sad brown paper, so angry he can see red. The vein already burst somewhere and all the blood has rushed to his vision.

Patches comes over to the kitchen to greet her lovely owner, then. She meows kindly at him, going in to rub against his leg.

"Shut up!" He shouts at the poor cat. She looks at him confused. Dream's chest rises and falls so fast she might get a seizure if she looks at him too long.

Dream, realizing he just shouted at his damn _cat_ , throws his head back and sighs. He tries to remember which side of the bed he got out of today.

He's sure it was the wrong one.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes to his cat honestly when he sees her still standing there, waiting for him to get his shit together, "The shower, the coffee, George's been on my mind all day..." he confides in her after picking her up. She rests comfortably in his arms, purring. "I agree, it is stupid." He nods at her, putting his forehead against the top of her small head. "Who even gets a crush from _one_ conversation? We're not teenagers anymore."

Patches still doesn't answer, that insensitive cat, so Dream continues, "And he wasn't even serious! I'm such an idiot!" He puts the soft cat down to free up his hands. He uses them to burry his face into. 

Patches meows at him again. 

"That's not helping! Tell me what to do!" He still monologues because the feelings have to leave his body somehow. He's afraid that if he doesn't say them out loud, the imaginary George that just won't leave his mind will hear his thoughts. 

That would be a breach of privacy. 

He thinks of Sapnap. What would he think?.. 

"And what would Sapnap think?!" Dream shakes his head at the thought of Sapnap knowing of his questionable feelings. "I don't even want to know what he'd think!" He answers himself. 

The coffee machine makes a sound. Its light turns off. 

Even the coffee machine is tired of listening to Dream venting the stupid feelings he should be ignoring. The excitement of a crush can't be addressed. Dream can't have a crush on George. It's bad. It's potentially friendship-ruining. It's dangerous.

He's been here before. He's reminded of his middle school best friend. Clay was in this same predicament back then. He started crushing on him, and back then he actually had the balls to admit to it and to let his friend know, even though he did only manage to do it through a text.

He remembers the boy's _okay_ , his answer to Clay's heartfelt confession, and how that okay marked the end of their friendship. The boy all too easily pretended it never happened, and Clay didn't stop his act.

He was so good at pretending, in fact, he started pretending him and Clay were never even friends. And that was that. Pretty simple, Clay must admit, though still heartbreaking. Clay hurt for months after it.

But he moved on as if it was just another bruise he'd gotten from falling off of his bike. Like kids do.

Dream smashes the coffee machine back to life with his palm. It has to listen to him.

He takes a deep breath and this time doesn't forget to slide a cup onto the machine's tray.

He takes a couple steps towards the trashcan to pick up the sloppy mess of a pile of paper towels wet with coffee. He picks it up with the tips of his fingers and throws it out.

This is a good start to putting his life back together.

"It's all because of that stupid fucking bet," he still speaks aloud, because he is _not_ done, "if it weren't for Sapnap we wouldn't be here!" He turns to the coffee machine that's just doing its job. He remembers Quackity's stream. "George was never that brave! What was _he_ thinking?!"

Dream really was just a victim of circumstance. He wouldn't be feeling like this if Sapnap didn't make the stupid bet and didn't get him involved in it. He wouldn't be feeling like this if George decided to go to sleep instead of staying with him a couple nights ago. He wouldn't be feeling like this if fucking Quackity wasn't online the one fucking day he wasn't supposed to be, and he _definitely_ wouldn't be feeling like this if George was more vocal about his dissatisfaction yesterday.

He takes a deep breath. He can't blame Sapnap, he couldn't have possibly known. And he can't blame Quackity for looking for entertainment for his viewers either.

He can certainly blame George though, so that's exactly what he does.

Dream has been friends with George for _years_ , and the one single time the man decides to be all bold and flirty is when Dream falls to his fucking knees as if George was the second coming of Christ.

And that's even ignoring everything that happened yesterday, and there's a lot to unpack _there_. It's too much to think about.

He stomps to his bedroom where he's left his phone hours ago and decides George has to own up to it.

The dude's _colorblind_ , what could he _possibly_ offer besides friendship?!

He can't find his phone in his bed sheets, so he gathers them up and shakes them until it falls out and hits the floor with a loud thud.

Dream reaches for it, still angry, but now the anger's laced with fear at the thought of a cracked screen. He's cracked enough phones to know just how fragile those things are.

Luckily, it's all perfect when he picks it up. That's probably the only good thing that's happened today.

He opens Snapchat again because that's apparently what they're doing now, and taps on George's name.

George's avatar thingy is already in the chat waiting for him.

Dream's anger subsides immediately. Was he angry? He suddenly can't remember.

He doesn't start typing and neither does George. They sit there aware of each other's presence for around half a minute until George starts writing.

_Got anything to say?_ His message reads.

Dream racks his brain for anything useful, but comes out empty.

_no_

George types again. _You left me on read for a couple hours so i thought you were angry. You ok?_

Dream was not okay. He stands in the middle of his room, phone in hand.

_yes,_ so not okay. _i'm all good_

George only starts typing after a few seconds this time, probably trying to decide whether Dream was lying or not. 

_Good,_ he decides. _Busy?_

Not busy at all. The action of dealing with his feelings wasn't exactly taking up his hands. 

_yes sorry_

George doesn't even think of leaving Dream alone.

_Doing what_

Dream thinks again. _suffering,_ he texts back, and it's really not far from the truth. 

_Cryptic,_ shows up. _I like it,_ George's two message come one after another. Dream smiles. _Keep it up_

Dream's bully instinct kicks in. _triple message? you in love with me or something?_ He cackles over the danger sirens blaring in his head.

George waits again before answering. 

_You make me feel like nobody else makes me feel,_ is his choice of words, and it's a poor one. Dream couldn't think of a worse answer if he tried. The sentence puts his entire mind into disarray.

But this is a game for George today, so Dream brings himself to play it. He wasn't going to pussy out. _how do i know you're not lying?_

_I guess you wont know_

Dream laughs at his friend obviously backing off. Even he didn't want to play his own game. As if he was the person in control and his heart wasn't shaking, Dream teases. _you should've said something like "i'll make you believe it" or something_

George teases back. _I guess I'm just not as good at flirting as you are. I bet you do it a lot_

Dream laughs, plopping his heavy body onto the edge of the bed, legs comfortably apart and elbows on his knees. _i do_

And Dream's typing out another witty comment when George sends another message.

_I'm sure Quackity's viewers think so too with how you choked up on his stream_

Dream stares at the message, speechless. All his confidence is gone and is replaced with embarrassment. George has really gotten too bold for his own good.

And he could pull him down, admittedly. He could push it further by reminding George of yesterday and how he got affected by Dream's words and the fact that he saved a picture of him, but doesn't. It doesn't feel appropriate.

Besides all of that, he doesn't have anything to say. What _is_ there to say when George called it out like this. He's _right._

He types the only thing he can think of. _you're such an idiot_

_:)_

Dream is sure George is smiling stupidly just like that when he thinks about the situation. Dream wishes he could do the same, but neither his embarrassment nor his anxiety leave him for a second.

If that was Dream's reaction to George when he didn't know of these feelings, how will Dream deal with it now that he does know? He's already slipped up more than once. He can't continue to let it happen.

He'd be doomed if George found out. That would be the most disgusting end to their friendship. Some lines aren't meant to be crossed.

Besides dealing with his feelings, he has to text George back. He's still waiting for a response.

So Dream gives him one. _yeah you keep talking like that and you're never getting a face reveal_

George takes a little bit to respond then, too, probably trying to figure out how much weight there is to the statement. They don't really talk about Dream's face besides when they joke about it on stream for the viewers. 

Dream writes this in in his mental list of lines he's crossed. The list is getting dangerously long now.

George, being the master in not taking things seriously, just answers with a _:(_ and yeah, Dream finds that an appropriate answer. He laughs.

_not so cocky now are you,_ he types.

George answers with a _I could be,_ because he apparently likes this game of tug of war they're playing and he doesn't have anything to be scared of.

Dream wonders how much more it would take to tip George over even if it were a bad idea to let it happen. 

At least one of them needs to be grounded, and Dream sure as hell isn't.

_oh yeah? and what would you say,_ Dream asks, a smirk on his face, because self control and backing off isn't in his tactical arsenal.

_I'd tell you that i knew you were in love with me and that you should just stop pretending otherwise_

And that's all it takes to wipe the smirk off of Dream's face. His grip feels very slippery suddenly and his phone isn't in his hands anymore. It falls to the floor with a sound that shakes Dream's mind.

It hit way too close to home. Dream can't take this anymore.

He gives himself three seconds to think of an answer before George gets the satisfaction of believing he got him again. Picking up his phone takes up at least one of those. When he looks at his screen again, George's avatar is staring back at him curiously.

George's getting too good at this. Way too good.

Dream swallows. _okay i will. i'm in love with you george,_ is his answer, because it's appropriate. Because it's a joke.

When Dream initially heard about the bet, he was not notified George was going to abuse it too. Nobody told him it wasn't going to be a one-sided battle.

A warning would've been nice.

George answers almost immediately. _Admit it that got you_

It 100% did, but pride isn't the only reason to not admit to it.

_absolutely it did not_

Again, George is the only one of the two who doesn't seem to be in need of time to be thinking of responses. _You're lying_

He is. _i'm not_

Dream's yesterday's sentiment about never lying to George is all too easily forgotten. George was right to call him a liar.

_Are you alone?_ he asks. Dream answers yes.

And George is calling him as soon as the message is sent. Dream startles, and this time he grips his phone tighter, determined to not let it fall a third time.

He should've answered no. He picks up the call once the initial shock settles. 

"I bet your heart is racing," are George's first words, and even those - spot on. 

He just does not miss, does he?

Dream doesn't miss George's tone of voice either. Amused, yes, but also much less colorful than it would sound if they were streaming. Dream prefers this voice much more, even though his phone's microphone does make him sound more robotic. It feels raw. More personal, more sincere.

"Okay, yes," Dream admits, putting George on speaker phone, "but only because I wasn't expecting a call. The sound scared me." He's not sure there even was a sound when George called. The only thing Dream heard was his heart trying to leave his chest and let him bleed out.

He wishes it did.

George laughs and that same betraying heart of Dream's melts.

It should've run when it still had the chance.

"You're lying, but okay," George says, marking the end of that topic of conversation. "What are you doing?"

"Suffering, I told you."

"Yeah, but why?" And Dream can hear the smile in George's voice.

And Dream tells him about all of his mundane mishaps of the day, conveniently leaving out the _I also admitted it to myself that I have feelings for you, so I think you should do some soul searching as well because I'm not the problem_ he really wanted to say.

George laughs when Dream finishes with his spiel about how he shouted at poor, innocent Patches. "You're so out of it. Did you forget to take your meds today or something?

Dream wishes that was his only worry. 

"I didn't, I don't know what the problem is," he says, because the words _you're the problem_ don't feel fitting for the situation. "It's just that type of day, I guess."

"I guess," George echoes back at him. "Well if you're not busy later, Sapnap and I were going to talk. He went to the dentist today, he said he sounds funny."

Dream smiles at the thought of getting to bully Sapnap. That would really lift his spirits up.

"I'll come," Dream tells him. He couldn't miss an opportunity like that, though talking more to George when Dream's so out of it doesn't sound half as appealing.

"Okay. Good." George decides. 

Dream smiles. "Good?" He raises an eyebrow. "What, you want to talk to me more or something?" Another push.

"I always do," George answers, voice light, the push ignored like a child's annoying quip. His laugh fills in the silence when Dream doesn't immediately answer. "I really thought I was gonna hate the bet, but this is kinda fun, I won't lie to you."

Dream lets his head fall. Everything's too much for him, it's far too heavy to carry. He's screwed. 

"Yeah, I can tell you're having fun," _that makes one of us._ "Mr. Dream-sent-something-naughty." Because the fact that George has a picture of him is really the only card Dream can play right now.

George makes that choking sound he does whenever his antics are called out. "Okay Mr. You-can-screenshot-it," he speaks in a mocking tone.

"You didn't have to," Dream points out.

"That was like, the only photo I ever got of you, of course I had to save it," George defends himself. "I'm gonna make a collection when I get more." And Dream notes George's conviction that more photos will come. He's also sure that the conviction is justified.

"Oh, yeah?" Dream's voice is back to sounding teasing. He hears the familiar danger sirens blasting again. His veins beat rhythmically. "What are you going to do with it?"

"Frame it," George answers without a second thought. Dream laughs once he feels himself breathe again.

"You're gonna print it and put it into your diary probably," Dream offers. "It's gonna be like: hello, diary. This is the guy I'm a simp for."

George huffs. "I'm not a simp." And after Dream's _sure, sure_ , he continues. "I was actually looking at the picture-- you look _giant_ in your chair. What's wrong with you? What do they feed you?"

Dream laughs again, this time harder, successfully ignoring the fact that George was inspecting his picture, was inspecting _him_. "What's wrong with me?" He repeats. "I don't know George, what's wrong with being normal sized?"

"That is not normal sized," George argues.

Dream still laughs. This is what their friendship should be. All jokes and no complicated feelings. "It is! You're just the size of a lawn gnome." This is how it's supposed to be.

George chokes again, but composes himself way fast. Dream braces himself, because he knows another hit is coming and he's determined to not let this one land. "If you're so big and strong, you could pick me up, right?"

This is not how it's supposed to be. George's set on destroying this balance Dream's trying to achieve. Dream's head spins. 

Not like Dream was one for balancing acts anyway.

"I could," Dream answers just as easily. "You're so small... I could throw you around like a feather." 

And an image appears in his mind, then. George in his arms, legs wrapped around Dream's waist, his hot breath against Dream's neck, arms desperately holding on, lips pressing against skin.

George couldn't escape from his grip. Dream would never let him.

Dream sits up straighter and almost misses the fact that George fell silent over his own anxiety buzzing in his ears and heartbeat that's just as loud.

Almost.

"Would you?" George answers a few seconds later. If Dream didn't know any better, he'd think George was tired. His voice sounded lower. Quieter. He sounded breathless.

Now Dream is insanely interested. 

And maybe George was just like Dream: not grounded enough. The thought was exhilarating. In Dream's whirring mind, there was no room for anything else but addiction.

"I would," Dream answers, mimicking George's intoxicating low voice. It was inviting beyond reason. "if you let me. Would you let me?"

And he's successful in pushing all the responsibility onto George again. Now George gets the pleasure of deciding whether they're just joking or not.

George takes a few long moments to answer this time too. Dream doesn't blame him. He'd be tearing himself apart right now too if their places were switched.

"I guess I was right when I said you were better at flirting than me," George admits, almost shamefully. He sounds defeated. Dream doesn't doubt it's exaggerated. 

George decided they're joking. Dream wonders if George considered the alternative or even thought of it as an option. Nevertheless, Dream adapts. "You were flirting?" He asks with a smile.

George laughs dryly. "Yeah, I'm sure you weren't bothered by it," he says, sarcasm dripping down Dream's phone.

He was bothered. "I was just asking, I couldn't tell." But his tone doesn't give it away.

"I'm sure-- huh?" George stops in his track for a few short seconds, taking them out of the nice moment. "Someone's calling me, give me a sec."

Dream wants to ask who it is, but the call is ended before he manages to. He stares at the white screen of Snapchat's chat, at their previous text messages. They're awful. And now George isn't even here to be faced with that reality. 

Dream sighs at his screen, realizing George wouldn't be half as tormented by this as he is, even if his responses seemed more encouraging than they usually would.

It's not the first time they talked like that over texts. They would do it a lot on those late nights when Dream would stay up well into the A.Ms and George would've pulled an all-nighter to keep him company.

They'd be exhausted then, but unwilling to end the conversation. Dream would try to piss George off into going to sleep with his relentless and uncomfortable flirting.

It's the first time that those are not the conditions. Neither one of them is sleep deprived, George doesn't seem annoyed and even though Dream did provoke him, George willingly took the bait.

He never did before.

Dream would probably think about the matter more, because it's something fresh in their friendship, but he already has his hands full trying to figure himself out first.

He continues sitting there on his bed, reading the messages over and over, marveling over his inability to shut the fuck up and pull it back.

If he deleted all his messages now, maybe George would forget about the conversation...

Dream barks out an unamused laugh at his phone as if it was at fault for not censoring him. He spends so much time on the damn thing it should know him better than that by now.

Though the phone would probably be just as surprised as Dream himself is.

He looks at the blank wall to his left, looking for a place where he can become one with his surroundings and just disappear, but even the sand colored surface calls him an idiot.

Even the wall followed his coffee machine's example and spoke tauntingly. Dream can't catch a break even in his own house.

But a break is due, George apparently decides, because he doesn't come back. Dream waits for him for a couple minutes, still blankly staring at nothing, thinking about the same, but he doesn't come.

He doesn't come when Dream walks back to the kitchen to get his coffee, and he's not back when Dream sits down to edit his next video, one without George in it.

Dream doesn't forget it. It sits on his mind as a constant reminder that he isn't the most important thing on George's mind like George is on his. 

It was a devastating thought, but not one Dream was scared by. He remembers how breathless George sounded when they spoke, his pauses of hesitation to answer Dream's attempts at unraveling him ever so slightly. He could never forget it if he tried. And if any of that was indication enough, Dream knew George was considering his words. He knew they didn't come in one ear and out the other; George heard him loud and clear, and he was thinking of how to answer.

And despite his contemplation, or because of it, he answered like _that_. He answered like Dream would.

But speculation isn't nearly enough. Hints and what-ifs are not enough when their friendship is in the crossfire of it all. Addiction to a feeling is not enough to end a friendship over.

He drums his hands on his desk re-watching the 5 minutes of edited content to look for any faults. He forgets about George for a little while, then, managing to focus for the first time in a few days.

It's already dark in his room when Karl messages him on Discord. _up for some among us? we need a player,_ his message reads.

Dream looks out the window in question. How long was he been working for? He looks into his empty cup and empty water bottle. It must've been hours.

And no, Dream is not up for some Among Us-- he'd rather be doing literally anything else. But he still checks out Karl's stream to see who's he playing with, even though it didn't matter, as he's already got a _sure add me,_ typed out and sent.

He knows he'll perform horribly, or at least much worse than he usually would, because he's been in a focused trance for hours and George, or a lack thereof, is back on his mind and is screaming loud.

He was supposed to call back. Why didn't he call back? They were supposed to get on call with Sapnap. Why didn't they?

"Traitor..." Dream breathes out, navigating his dark house to the kitchen to refill his water bottle, hoping to not trip over Patches on his way. He really doesn't want to play with the exhaustion of work and his personal feelings heavy on his shoulders.

By the time he's back to his room, Karl has already sent him all the necessary info, so Dream couldn't back out anymore.

He looks at his microphone to the side, already having decided against streaming. He wouldn't want a recording of him being a mess on his own channel, it's better not to when he's already feeling all types of defeated.

He joins the call and everyone greets him happily. He greets back, just as energetic, though his mind is is still elsewhere. In a call full of people that's buzzing with life and discussion, his mind is still with George.

Maybe George had something important to do and he had to leave quickly? Maybe it was an emergency? Feeling guilty, Dream opens Snapchat and takes a picture of the Among Us lobby and types _you okay? you just left suddenly_. He sends it to George.

George messages back almost immediately, which tells Dream that he wasn't busy, but either forgot or ignored him, answering with a picture of his dark living room and a TV screen, some movie Dream doesn't recognize on, and the text _Something came up. Sorry i couldn't call back_ on top of it.

Dream's not even sure which one is worse: being forgotten or ignored.

He looks at the words, seriously annoyed. George obviously wasn't busy _now_ , what kept him from getting back at him _now_?

Dream doesn't bother taking a picture this time, instead opting for a simple message. 

_call me now_

George's avatar appears. _You're busy_ , he answers.

He's right, Dream should be busy, because people keep talking and the game is starting in four seconds, but all he hears is George making up excuses to not talk to to him, so he angrily types back, _i'll quit after this game if you call me_

And he totally would. The nine people in the call with him didn't matter, though he knows it would be bad manners.

George texts back as soon as the game's started. _I'll consider if you send a picture of yourself_

Dream gets even more annoyed, but his voice is bright when he says, "Guys, I have to do something. Give me a minute, don't kill me," and Karl swears on his life that he'll protect him.

George doesn't get to be all bold after leaving him alone for hours without a goodbye. 

But he will send a picture, because George doesn't get to come out of this without paying.

Dream will rip his heart out himself if he has to.

The picture he takes is not exactly a great one, Dream wouldn't brag about it given the chance, but it should be more than enough to shake up George a little. After all, he doesn't get to see Dream-- any of Dream, often. 

The picture is of the bottom left of his face. The outline of his shoulder and the curve of his neck is visible, the bright silver line of his jaw is glowing bright in front of the dark background of his bedroom, the corner of his mouth that's so slightly lifted Dream doesn't even think George will notice is in the upper right corner of the shot.

He sends it without a moment to wait. He doesn't want to wait.

And George doesn't either, because the picture is opened straight away. It's screenshot in a second as well, this time without permission.

Dream smirks. The action is impatient, greedy. He can't keep himself from thinking of the familiar hunger he notices in George. He felt it too when he saw George blush red on stream yesterday; it was such a terrible feeling. His hands were shaking, he feared the sudden unfamiliarity of it. That was the beginning of him trying to pull George down with him. 

He doesn't point out George's impatient picture saving. It wasn't all too surprising, he said it himself that he'll be saving all pictures of Dream. And he can't be calling George desperate now when he's still unstable in his footing, when he still chooses to back away and release when they play their twisted game of tug. 

Instead, he texts, _now call me_

George answers. _You're literally in a call with other people it would be rude to leave after one game. Just play and stop being clingy_

Dream is betrayed for the nth time today.

After George's final message, _Win for me_ , comes, Dream sighs into his microphone. "I'm back!" He tells Karl, who's been standing on top of him the entire time.

Dream's head still spins. George had reasons to leave him alone, he had reasons not to include him in the call with Sapnap, if there even was one, and he had reasons to not want to talk to him now. He wouldn't do something like that without a reason.

But he still answered him. He still flirted back without any witnesses: he would've gotten away without upholding his end of the bet, Dream would've let him after yesterday's apology. And he still saved Dream's picture. 

Dream is desperate enough to place meaning and reason behind those actions. Those actions make Dream see similarities between them two. They make him hopeful.

And for now, that's enough.

For now, that's everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone is having a lovely holiday season!

**Author's Note:**

> now, i don't have this fic prewritten, so you and i will be figuring it out as we go. i haven't written anything in a couple years now, but i'm extremely happy to be back to it. special thanks to the dream team for giving me a reason to write again! i hope all of us, me and you, the readers, enjoy this journey <3


End file.
